


Apparate To You

by CheekyTorah



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter Friendship, F/M, First Kiss, First Love, First Meetings, Gay Draco Malfoy, Getting Together, Good Draco Malfoy, Horcrux Hunting, M/M, Minor Character Death, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-07 22:14:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21465376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheekyTorah/pseuds/CheekyTorah
Summary: Harry had no idea of any sort of magical world. Sure there had been weird things that happened in his life, but he had always chalked it up to coincidence. This time, however, there was no dispute.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Luna Lovegood/George Weasley, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 21
Kudos: 275
Collections: HP Butterfly Fest 2019





	1. Happenstance

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the butterfly fest prompt:  
Prompt 71: ***Fic only***  
“What if Draco had come out to his parents when he was young and they didn't like that so they put him up for adoption (most likely Muggle so that they possibly wouldn't meet him again)? What if Sirius and Remus (or maybe the Weasleys or some other couple) adopted Draco and James and Lily (or Remus and Sirius) are raising Harry and Draco and Harry somehow meet? They become good friends throughout Hogwarts, maybe even get together. Maybe Lucius and Narcissa end up having another kid and Draco somehow finds out his birth parents (maybe he was too young to remember or maybe he does know) and finds out the story and that had another kid?”  
Pairings - Draco/Harry, Remus/Sirius, James/Lily, Arthur/Molly (really depends on what the author does with the prompt tbh)  
Era - Lightning  
Rating - G, T, E  
Notes - Dislikes are rape/non-con, open endings, MCD
> 
> And a prompt from tumblr!
> 
> Thanks to A, K and N for the encouragements!!!! And a HUGE SHOUT OUT to L and S for being amazing Beta’s ❤️ without you both this piece wouldn’t be what it is today. You were so wonderful!

July 1991

Moving day was the worst. Harry hated that he was the one being forced to move all of Dudley’s stuff while he got to sit on the grass with his stupid GameboyTM. The big ugly sack of fat would get up now and then, kick a box that Harry was trying to move to the van, and laugh like it was the funniest joke in the world. What a prick.

May 1994

Harry woke in a sweat, his body shaking and his ears ringing. He could still hear the creepy hissing voice, the screams, see the green light. He shook his head. These nightmares were getting terrible, and he had no idea where they were coming from. Maybe too many horror flicks. He really had to stop letting his imagination get away with him.

Harry jumped when the banging on his bedroom door began.

“Keep that racket down, boy! So help me, if I have to come in there!” Uncle Vernon shouted through the door. “You’ll be walking to school for a month.”

Harry rolled his eyes. Of course his uncle would threaten to not allow him on the school bus. As if locking him in his room every night, making him clean the entire house after cooking a large meal that he hardly got to eat wasn’t enough, he had to threaten Harry over his nightmares that he could hardly control. He was so over this.

December 1995

Harry was screaming, loudly, when he woke up. Terror pulsing through his veins. Harry could still feel the bite, still hear the voice in his dreams whispering to him about being nothing, having no one, and how everyone he knows will die. He didn’t recognize the man in his dream, the one who got attacked, but Harry felt it as if he was the one being bitten by the massive snake slithering along those cold tiles. 

Harry was so scared. He couldn’t even catch his breath. It was worse than the days after the attack last year. Harry was awake now, breathing heavily, clutching the sheets around himself, but he could feel the throbbing in his scar and the ache of the bites in his neck and chest. The bites that weren’t there. The bites that happened to the older ginger man in his dream.

April 1997

Harry hated the holidays. It was worse when his Aunt made him cook up a fancy dinner, yelling at him if he stirred the gravy the wrong way, or put too much milk in the mash. The noise of the telly, his Uncles laughter and Dudley’s complaining was sometimes not enough and all too much at the very same time. 

He couldn’t help the jealous feeling; like bile in the back of his throat, wishing he was the adored one and his cousin was the one cooking the meals, waiting for everyone to be finished, so he might get some scraps for himself. 

Easter dinner was usually the best and worst holiday. There weren’t an array of presents for Dudley and nothing for him, so he didn’t have to see the monetary proof that Petunia and Vernon Dursley had not a care in the world for Harry, but he did have to put up with the visits of Uncle Vernon’s sister. She was quite terrible; always insulting Harry’s parents, calling his father a drunk and his mother worse.

It was only after dinner, the family sitting around the fire with glasses of brandy and wine, that Harry finally snapped.

“Give those leftovers to Marge for her pup, boy!” Vernon growled from the large armchair in the corner.

“This was my dinner, Uncle Vernon,” Harry insisted.

“NO, that is for the pup, there is a jar of peanut butter and some bread in the cupboard.” Vernon grumbled. When he saw the look of upheaval on Harry’s face he turned and pointed a short fat finger at him. “Don’t you argue with me, I took you in out of the kindness of my heart. I didn’t have to, you know, I could have left you at an orphanage or even a bloody fire station if I wanted.”

“Why, the bloody hell, didn’t you?” Harry asked through gritted teeth.

“Harry, I think you should clean up this mess and go to your room,” Aunt Petunia said coldly as she pursed her lips in distaste.

Harry threw his plate of food at the sink, pieces of porcelain flying around the kitchen. He whirled around in anger, stomped up the stairs and slammed his door. They could clean up their own mess, see if Harry cared. He was done. He paced the length of his small closet sized room. A room he had only got five years ago when the Dursley’s moved to a house without a small cupboard to stuff him in.

He was hysterical. Not noticing the flickering lights, and the shutters banging outside his room on a perfectly warm breezeless spring evening, Harry stewed on his emotions. He wanted to leave, run away as far as he could and never look back. He had been counting the days till his seventeenth birthday, like the finish line of a horribly long marathon of horrors. 

Until the move and Harry made real friends at a school where Dudley was new too, Harry hadn’t known how abnormally he lived. He understood that Dudley was treated better, being his aunt and uncle's son, but he hadn’t known that the way he was treated was wrong. He was hardly able to process the feeling of panic he got in dark or tight spaces, or the fear of abandonment that kept him from dating. So no, he didn't know he wasn't treated the same as most adopted kids. Not until he met others whose parents had words with Aunt Petunia over the situation. It never made a difference though. He had food, and clothing and a roof over his head. By the standards of the law, he was given everything he needed to survive.

Harry pulled on his converse shoes and his plaid button down, baggy and frayed from being either Vernon or Dudley's hand-me-down. He pulled on the leather jacket he had found in a box of old stuff in the attic when he was eleven. It had been labelled ‘LP&JP’. Harry had been angry that his aunt and uncle had hidden the few things left of his parents but also surprised that they hadn’t thrown it all away. He had hidden the items into a bag of his own belongings, it wasn’t much, just a few clothes, a journal of his mothers, a photo of them and their bridal crew on their wedding day which he now kept in his pocket and a blanket in which Harry had been wrapped as a baby. The letters HP embroidered into the fabric.

Still angry, he picked up the lamp on his table and spun around on his heel to throw it across the room, wishing he could be anywhere but here. Somewhere he was loved. With someone who would care. 

Suddenly, the world shrank around Harry, there was a horrible tug at his stomach, and he was spinning and moving so fast that he felt like he would be sick. He landed with a horrible thunk on his back, hitting his head on a hard sharp surface with a crack. The urge to puke came over him immediately, and he turned over to expel bile and water from his stomach.

“You are an utter imbecile!” A posh voice snapped.

Hands gripped Harry’s shoulders and pulled him up. His head was still spinning and his vision blurry as he was dragged into a dark alcove. He was released and Harry slumped down a brick wall. When his vision cleared he saw a blonde boy, roughly his age, pointing a long stick at some woman. 

How odd is that? He blinked again and saw a trickle of light coming from the stick. As quickly as he had seen it, the light was gone, the stick shoved into the boys jeans and the woman wobbling away with a blank confused look on her face. Harry saw the lamp he had been holding only minutes ago in his room in pieces on the ground near where the boy stood.

Harry looked around, recognizing the old pub and book store beside it. He was in London, just on the outskirts of the busier parts. His head stung, and he still felt out of sorts as the boy appeared in front of him, looking intently at his nails and most assuredly NOT at Harry.

“You know, it’s quite ridiculous to be apparrating in the middle of muggle areas you know, you're very lucky it was only one muggle and not a hoard of them. Though, I suspect the Aurors will be arriving any time now to question you. I’m sure you can understand why I’ll be leaving you to that,” the boy looked Harry up and down before his eyes darted away again. 

“What?” Harry asked dazed and confused. 

Harry stared blankly at the boy as he rolled his eyes.

“Oh for the love of–” The blonde pulled out his stick again, pointed it at Harry and continued. “Episkey! Merlin, you really ought to have been able to do that for yourself.”

Harry felt the throbbing in his head immediately go away and with it the fogginess in his thoughts. He jumped up and looked at the boy and his stick.

“What is that? Why are you pointing that thing around? Are you some kind of-of-of weirdo or something?” Harry said feeling the start of a panic attack setting in. He ran his fingers through his hair and looked around, planning to run.

Where was he? How did he get there? Why was this guy waving a stick around talking about muggles and merlin? What was he even thinking? Obviously this bloke was mad as a hatter!

“You– You’re Harry Potter!?” The blonde gasped, eyes wide in shock.

“How did you–”

The boy gripped Harry's wrist and once again began yanking him along the pavement. He was muttering under his breath and walking quickly along the cobblestones pulling impatiently on Harry to keep up with him. 

“Who the hell are you?” Harry asked desperately. “Where are you taking me? Are you crazy?”

The boy whipped around and looked at him evenly.

“I’m Draco, I– I know where your family is, they’ve been searching for you! Potter, you have to come with me!”

Harry pulled his arm away angrily and shoved Draco before snarling, “My family is dead! You better tell me who the fuck you are right now! What kind of joke is this? Did Dudley put you up to this? How did I get here?”

“You expect me to believe you didn’t apparate here on purpose?” Draco gave Harry a searching look. “Salazar, help me. I’m not joking with you, don’t be preposterous. I’m not sure who this Dudley is, but I can assure you I was not ‘put up’ to anything. This is London, the muggle area of course, where have you been living?”

“What the hell is a Muggle? I’ve been in Fleetwood, how did I get all the way to London, what is an apparate?”

“Merlin,” Draco sighed rubbing the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “Look Potter, we don’t have time, you need to get off the streets before the Aurors get here.”

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what is going on. Right. Now!” Harry said stubbornly.

“Salazar, you would be meant for Gryffindor, I’d bet my last Knut on it.”

“You only have one nut?” Harry looked at him sceptically and glanced down at Draco’s– and looked away flushing embarrassed.

Draco smirked and shook his head. “Can we get off the streets? I can tell you everything. Just. Not. Here.”

~*~

Harry followed Draco until they came to a set of town houses. Draco used that stick again and suddenly the houses began moving. Harry felt faint. Houses. Moving? He must have knocked his head, and he was actually in a coma dreaming up fantastically odd things. Slowly another house appeared and Draco ran up the steps to the door.

“Well, come on,” he rolled his eyes at Harry. “Honestly, were you always this idiotic or did you hit your head too hard?”

“I’m thinking I hit my head. Did a house really just appear, out of nowhere?”

“Bloody, Muggles,” Draco grumbled opening the door and storming into the house with Harry on his heels. “Sirius! Remus!” 

“Bloody hell, Dray,” a deep raspy voice grunted. A tall and dark, long haired man walked into the room holding a coffee, squinting at Draco. “It’s too early for your–” the cup promptly fell to the ground, shattered, spilling its contents all over the hardwood. “Remus!” He yelled with a panicky waver.

“Thought it was too early for shouting?” Draco smirked, leaning against the fireplace with his arms crossed.

“How the hell, where did you?” The man – Sirius – gaped at Draco. “Where did you find him?”

“He just popped up suddenly. Quite literally. Unfortunately, there was a bit of a muggle situation. I expect the Aurors are already downtown.”

“Sweet, Merlin,” a voice from the stairs gasped. 

“My sentiments exactly,” Draco said, appearing bored again, looking at his fingers.

“Remus, he looks just like James!” Sirius said excitedly.

He was practically bouncing with excitement. There was a big grin on his face, and his very grey eyes, similar to Draco's in fact, were wide and bright. He looked about ready to explode. 

“Yes, Pads we can all see that.” A man with tawny curls chuckled as he made his way down the stairs. He, too, wore a wide wolfish smile as he came to stand in front of Harry.

“James is my father’s name. You–” Harry pointed at Sirius. “You look like the man at my parents' wedding.”

“Harry, we’ve been looking for you for years,” Sirius said quietly.

“Who are you people, why did this house just move into a space between the two houses that also… moved? I sound like a bloody lunatic!” Harry asked as he pulled at his hair.

“Petunia, she– she didn’t tell you anything?” The thin curly haired man – Remus – asked.

“Of course she bloody didn’t, that woman hates all this,” Sirius spat out and waved wildly around. “She would have felt it her ‘duty’ to keep the kid away from it.”

“Away from what?!” Harry yelled.

“Magic, Harry,” Sirius said tentatively. “It’s real, I know it sounds a bit mad, but it’s true. Your mother’s a witch, and your father a wizard. You’re a wizard too!”

Harry sat down, right there in the middle of the hallway of a house that just moved, and started laughing. It sounded a bit manic, like he may have lost his marbles a bit, but as tears fell down his cheek the laughs turned to sobs. Long moments passed, and Harry found Sirius crouched in front of him.

“I’m Sirius Black, this is my cousin Draco Black, and – well – my boyfriend Remus Lupin.” Sirius smiled at him. “I’m your godfather, I was at your parents wedding because I was your father’s best man.”

“So if your my godfather, why did I end up with my aunt and uncle when my parents died?”

“DIED?!” Remus yelled. “They told you what?!”

“Obviously they had to say something, Moony,” Sirius tried to reason. “They didn’t tell him about magic they obviously weren’t going to say that James and Lily went into hiding from an evil wizard.”

“That’s pretty obvious,” Draco chimed in.

“Shut it, Dray!” Sirius and Remus said at the same time and smirked at each other. 

“Excuse me, but what?” Harry choked out another sob. “My parents– you’re telling me that my parents are alive?”

The room filled with silence as Harry looked at the three people around him expectantly. Sirius shifted uncomfortably, Remus sighed, and Draco just rolled his eyes, again.

“Harry, no one has seen them since 1981. We believe they are alive. I know it. I feel it here.” Sirius pressed against his chest. “They went into hiding to protect you.”

Harry felt really overwhelmed, the room might have been spinning, and he felt both hot and cold at the same time. He looked up at Draco, the boy who had helped him when he was suddenly thrust through time and space, in a moment of panic and emotional turmoil.

“Tea?” Draco asked simply and turned on his heel not waiting for an answer. 

Harry nodded and went after him, followed by the two older men. When Harry finally had his hands wrapped around a hot mug of steaming tea, he felt his body relax somewhat. He had two pairs of eyes boring into him, so he focused his attention on the pair that wasn’t. Draco was pointy, and smooth, pale and striking. He had a scar that ran across his jaw that looked pink and was probably deep. Something that must have been within the year. 

“You’ll have to tell me,” Harry said slowly.

“Where do we even start? What do you want to know?” Remus asked slowly.

“I want to know all of it. Start at the beginning.”

~*~

Harry gripped his third mug of tea so tightly his knuckles were white. There was a whole world, a war and even family that Harry had known nothing about. His head was spinning. This Voldemort bloke sounded like a right arsehole, and on top of prejudice beliefs, was a murderer. 

After he had turned one of Harry’s parents best friends against them, Voldemort attempted to kill Lily and James, and Harry was whisked off to be hidden away in the Muggle world. It was presumed he had killed the man as a baby but about 6 years ago he returned. Though the truth of his return was purely speculation to the Ministry of Magic, the magical government. 

Attempting to get the power of some elixir of life, he infiltrated a school of magic but had been thwarted by Albus Dumbledore. The following year the school closed and hasn’t been reopened. Some monster was raised, by Voldemort or one of his followers, that was attacking muggle-born children. The Ministry closed the school and all magical children in Britain were being homeschooled or tutored indefinitely.

Sirius had spent 13 years in some special wizard jail, for the murder of his parents and a bunch of non-magic folk, obviously all of it not true. Remus now tutored a bunch of kids who had been forced to leave Hogwarts. But mostly he had missions to take care of for the Order, some secret organization aiming to take down Voldemort.

“This is a lot,” Harry took a deep breath and looked around the table. “I just need–”

“Come on Potter, I’ll show you to our room.” Draco interrupted.

“Our room?”

“Yes, well, can’t very well stuff you in a broom cupboard now can we?” 

Harry froze and felt panic sinking into his skin. “I’ve had enough of sleeping in cupboards thanks.” He muttered under his breath as he pushed away from the table. 

Draco gave him a curious look but continued up the stairs and down a dark hallway. He led Harry to a large room with two beds, and various posters on the wall. The posters moved, the people inside winking, grinning and waving at Harry as he walked past them to settle into the bed there.

“This is probably a bit,” Draco paused and sighed. “Salazar, I don’t really care. Sleep, don’t sleep, just don’t keep me up when I need to sleep.”

“Rude, and here I thought you’d play the gracious host.”

“Probably the job for Sirius or Remus. I don’t give a damn about this Boy Who Lived rubbish, and don’t think it’ll win you any favours with me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Harry muttered tossing his shoes across the room and laying back on the bed as Draco stormed out of the room.

He was a wizard. Harry Potter, a wizard. Harry Potter, Defeater of Evil, Wizard Extraordinaire. It all sounded ridiculous. Maybe he’d wake up at the Dursley’s, with a lump on his head from getting beat by Dudley again. He tried to wish for that, because the alternative was that he surely had lost his mind. He tried to keep telling himself that as he drifted off to sleep schooling his breathing to keep the monster inside at bay.

~*~

Harry must have slept for an extremely long time, no doubt from all the stress of the previous evening, because when he woke it was to curtains being pulled back and the sun assaulting his face. Harry groaned and glared at Draco who perched himself on the windowsill with a novel and smirked over at his grumbling. He was meant to share a room with this boy, a snarky posh jerk who definitely thought himself better than Harry. As if he hadn’t had enough of terrible house mates. Harry sat up, put on his glasses and sighed. Happily or unhappily he hadn’t quite decided yet. So much had happened, so much had changed. He had a real family, or something like it, he thought to himself as he glared again at Draco. 

His parents were alive, somewhere, and he was – God, he was some kind of Wizard with magic powers. Harry stretched high over his head, letting his oversized shirt sleeve’s fall to his elbows, and the hem ride up his stomach.

Draco glanced over and appraised Harry’s abdomen, caught red-handed he flushed and went to look away but then saw the scar on his arm. Harry pulled down his shirt and looked away. He knew it was ugly, a horrible wrinkly white scar that looked like an odd shaped snake almost.

“Last year some creepy looking bloke attacked me, stabbed me and left me to bleed to death in an alley in London. I was just visiting a friend, trying to get away from the bullshit I lived with. The weirdest thing was he didn’t rob me or anything. He just stabbed me and left.” Harry rubbed at the scar absently. “I reckon it was my stupid cousin or one of his friends. He hates me something fierce, wouldn’t put it past him honestly.”

“You’ve had quite the life so far, haven’t you, Potter?”

Harry sighed, pulled himself from the bed and wandered down the stairs. He found Remus sitting at the table in the basement kitchen, a plate of eggs and bacon already served out for Harry and Draco whenever he decided to come down as well. It was amazing and terrifying how he already felt more welcome, and more cared for here in a matter of hours, than he ever had in 14 years at the Dursley’s.

“How are you faring?” Remus asked softly. He had an odd looking newspaper in his hands, it had moving figures on it, and a steaming cup of tea to his left. 

He waved his own stick – wand Harry corrected himself – and the kettle on the counter whistled violently. Harry watched in amazement as a tea bag floated out of the cupboard, landed in a cup that had appeared out of nowhere and the kettle poured itself – yes, poured itself – into the cup. Finally, the cup floated to Harry and settled beside his plate, the fragrant aroma helping to fully revive Harry from his drowsy state.

“Wicked.”

Remus smirked as he sipped on his own, and lay the paper down on the table.

“They know someone unregistered apparated into Muggle London, and it won’t be long until they show up here looking to question Draco.”

Harry peered over at the paper, the headline reading: ‘Accidental or Purposeful: Former Heir to Malfoy Estate Last One At The Scene’.

“I don’t get it, who is Malfoy?”

“I am,” Draco growled and sat in the chair beside Remus. “Or I was, until about a year ago.”

Remus patted Draco’s hand gently, and Draco visibly softened.

“I was disowned, and disinherited by my loving family.” Draco snarled and shovelled food into his mouth, a sure sign he wouldn’t say a word more on the subject.

Harry nodded and continued his own meal. Soon the house shook and the sound of a bell chimed through the air. Remus told Harry to go up to his room and from the top of the stairs he heard shouting and arguments. He hadn’t meant to cause anyone trouble, hadn’t meant to get Draco into any trouble either, but here he was being even more of a burden on these people who just seemed to want to help him.

A warm hand rested on his shoulder and Harry looked up as Sirius sat beside him at the top of the stairs.

“Don’t worry, Remus is wonderful at this sort of thing, and beside I Owled Alistair, he’ll call off the Aurors once he gets it.”

“I really don’t understand,” Harry sighed resting his head on his knees. Owling? He sure had a lot to learn about this world.

“You will,” Sirius smiled reassuringly.


	2. Inevitability

Remus had insisted on taking Harry to some place called Diagon Alley, and getting him his own wand. He wanted Harry to get loads of reading materials, and they’d begin his lessons as soon as possible. They had insisted he wear some make-up over his scar, wanting to keep him from being discovered. Apparently he was quite the celebrity in the Wix world and with Voldemort and his followers searching for him, he had to be careful not to be seen.

Standing outside a shop called Ollivander’s, Harry waited while Remus got some books from a busy shop, bursting with witches and wizards – or Wix – of all ages. He peered into the shop, eyeing the empty and dark looking room when there was a sudden explosion, and the glass window of the shop burst.

There was screaming everywhere, and shop after shop was hit with what looked like bright light and fire. Remus came running up to Harry. Harry was scared, he didn’t know what was going on, but he saw a group of men and women in dark cloaks and evil smiles walking towards them. Harry pulled Remus into the wand shop, ducking behind the broken desk and fallen boxes. There was shouting, and a woman with long black wild hair appeared in the shop, looking through a box marked records. It seemed like forever before she finally fled, chased off by a group of Red cloaked ‘Aurors’ Remus had called them.

“Harry, find a wand.”

“But, how do I know what wand is best?”

“You don’t, but we don’t have much choice. Wave a few around, you’ll know if a wand chooses you.”

“You know, just when I think I’m getting used to things, I find myself confused again.”

Remus smirked but shoved Harry towards the piles of wand boxes. Harry felt a sense of trepidation and an almost buzzing feeling as his hand trailed over boxes. He picked up a box and reached inside to pull out a long bendy piece of white wood and flicked it towards the desk behind Remus.

It caught fire.

The desk, that had once been perfectly fine, caught fire when Harry waved the wand at it. Harry was stunned for a moment, then quickly put the wand back in the box, eyes wide and breathing unsteady.

“I’m not sure this is such a good idea, Remus.”

Still, Remus urged him on. The second wand he found shattered a vase, and Harry dropped the wand immediately. The third wand didn’t really do much, if anything, but he felt a warmth flow through his body. It felt right in all the ways that nothing in his life ever had.

Remus must have seen it in his face, and smiled. “Hold on to me.”

Harry gripped Remus’ arm, and then he felt that familiar disorienting feeling of being pulled through a small tube by his belly button. Harry still puked when they landed but the feeling of disorientation faded much faster this time around. They rushed into the house and Harry slumped to the ground trying to catch his breath and settle his stomach.

“Why are your robes burnt, Remus?” Sirius bellowed, running down the stairs two at a time and landing in front of the two of them faster than a man his age should be able.

“Diagon was attacked, and it looked like your insane cousin was looking for a wand.”

“A wand?” Draco’s voice came from the sitting room. “What could Aunt Bella want with a wand? Assuming, of course, you’re talking about Bella.”

“The one and only,” Remus grimaced. “Draco, you really don’t need to–”

“Of shove off, I’m fine. When will The Order members be here then?”

“Any time, I would assume,” As Sirius spoke the fireplace lit up with a large green fire and a large man with a fake eye and a mangled face stepped out of the flames.

Following him came a few other men, all clad in robes of different colours. The room was suddenly full of people, mostly of red haired men, an older woman and a young blonde haired girl as well. Harry stared at the group as they all talked loudly and shuffled towards the kitchen.

“You’re Harry!” a bushy haired girl exclaimed. “I’m Hermione Granger!” She smiled brightly and held out her hand.

“Erm, hi?” Harry mumbled shaking her hand and shooting Draco an incredulous look.

“I told you, Boy Who Lived, everyone knows who you are.” Draco smirked. “Of course, everyone knows who I am too, but they don’t look half as pleased to see me.”

“Maybe if you weren’t such a git,” Harry grinned and bumped Draco’s shoulder with his own.

Draco’s high cheek bones had the smallest tint of pink before he smoothed down his waistcoat and gave Harry a withering look. “At least I don’t snore like a barbarian.”

Harry laughed as they sat down at the table and silence quickly fell over the room.

There was a lot of discussion that Harry didn’t fully understand, but he did hear his name over and over. There was some heated arguments, and even some yelling, but it was almost always ended by an elderly wizard with a long white beard and pointed shoes. He said he had a task for Harry and Molly Weasley – the older red haired woman – immediately protested. 

It seemed that everyone had an opinion on Harry’s involvement in the war, and no one was actually asking Harry what he wanted to do. Sirius argued that Harry ought to be able to fight if he wanted to fight, and gave Harry a wink. Harry grinned. 

When the meeting ended, the older adults went into the drawing room, and the younger ones dragged Harry into the Gardens. They were all around his age. There was Ronald Weasley who was the same age as Harry, Hermione Granger – Ron’s girlfriend – Fred and George Weasley, twins and just a few years older than Harry, and then Luna Lovegood. They told him they had formed their own secret group, feeling that they could get some things done without the adults holding them back.

“Isn’t that a bit,” Harry paused. “Risky?”

“Harry, there are some things you will have to do. Has anyone explained this to you yet?” When Harry shook his head, she continued. “We infiltrated the Ministry last year, we got a hold of a prophecy with your name on it. You have to destroy He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. No one else. Just you.” Hermione explained. “I know this is a lot–”

“Little bit,” He murmured.

“He will kill all the Muggles, he will kill all of us, he will kill you, mate,” Ron said slowly. “They want to keep you, all of us too, out of the war but you are the only person who can stop Him. They killed my baby sister when she was only 11. She was not even a muggle-born.”

“Even a Pure blood is in danger–” Fred began.  
“If they are a ‘Blood Traitor’, Harry.” George finished.

“Draco’s parents tried to make him take the mark,” Luna said softly.

“Lovegood!” Draco snapped.

“What? We all know it wasn’t only that you were gay,” she said thoughtfully. “We know you’re not capable of being one of them.”

Draco threw his hands in the air and stormed out of the room. Harry watched him go, appreciating the view. Draco was gay? Not that that mattered at all, Harry had gone through his bisexual crisis years ago. What was a mark? Why was he still so confused?

“Luna, honey, we’ve talked about just saying the things in our heads,” Fred said softly rubbing his girlfriends back.

“I don’t understand why that's a big deal, I mean it’s a good thing that he isn’t capable of murder, isn’t it?”

“Not your story to tell, love,” he said sternly and cast an apologetic look at Draco’s retreating form.

“What’s this Mark, you mentioned?” Harry interrupted their light-hearted bickering.

“Dark Mark, Harry. It’s a sign of Him, his followers take the mark as a sign of loyalty.” Hermione said ominously. “Once a wizard takes the mark they have tied their lives to him. To his success or his demise in the event the war ends not in his favour.”

“Why would Draco’s parents–” Harry began.

“You should ask him,” she suggested.

Harry enjoyed getting to know the Weasleys, Hermione and Luna, they talked late into the night before the group left through the Floo, as they called it. Later that night, Harry sat in his bed, eyeing Draco’s still form in his own bed. He was a fit bloke, pretty grey eyes with a bit of blue flecks, tall and broad in the shoulders. Slim and angular features that were very becoming on him. He caught himself watching him a lot, though not intentionally. Harry had an eye for attractive people. Especially those with powerful personalities.

“Stop staring, Potter,” Draco snapped.

“You’re awake!”

“How perceptive of you.”

“Sorry,” Harry said quietly.

Draco sighed and sat up in his bed and looked over Harry warily.

“Ask.” At Harry’s confused expression Draco huffed and continued. “Ask me what impertinent questions you have sitting in that big stupid head of yours, so that I might be able to sleep.”

“Why did they want you to take the mark?”

“Go for the easy ones, why don’t you?” Draco and rolled on to his stomach, feet in the air, knees on his pillow. “My father is You-Know-Who’s right-hand man, or was back in the day. If he had succeeded in me taking the mark I would have had to do some pretty terrible things, but it would have earned our family’s good graces with Him back. I’m not perfect you know. I almost did it. Honestly, I was days from doing it, he threatened my family. What else could I do?”

“So why didn’t you?”

Draco flushed. “Well, my father found out about my tendency to want to shag blokes. Said I could do that all I liked in secret, but I’d still have to marry a good Pure Blood witch to carry on our good name. I refused. He–I love my father. I do. I also hate him.” Draco glared at his hands, and Harry could almost swear he saw tears in Draco’s eyes.

“He just about killed me, let my aunt have fun cursing me with a particularly painful spell, and then beat me himself. I ran here, well, Floo’d actually. I never looked back. Sirius and Remus took me in no questions asked and I couldn’t want for anything better than what I have here.”

Harry knew better than most, there was nothing anyone could say that could make this kind of thing better. He couldn’t say he understood, because what could Harry understand about Pureblood traditions? He could of course, relate to the feeling of being abused by a parent, but he got the feeling that his family had never been that way before and that it was because of war and desperation that turned Draco's father into a monster.

“Well,” Harry said quite matter of factly – or at least he hoped that’s how it sounded. “I’m glad you came here. Even if you're a pointy git!”

“At least I’ve heard of a comb,” Draco sniffed but smiled gratefully.

Harry grinned and settled back into bed. In another time, he would have been cleaning dishes and doing laundry right now. In another world, Harry realized. Instead, he was in a warm bed, in a house of people who said they cared about him. Harry desperately wanted to believe that, but vaguely he knew that it was a dangerous game, getting attached to people who were supposed to care but possibly won’t. 

~*~ 

Almost two months went by, it was late June, and though Harry learned some of the most basic spells quickly, even so, he was terribly far behind in magical studies. Remus decided to focus purely on offensive and defensive spells, leaving History of Magic and Potions and other technical courses for a time when his ability to defend himself wasn’t top priority.

Mornings were filled with his Charms classes, and afternoons and evenings with Defence Against the Dark Arts. Hermione often visited and she would help him every other Saturday evening with History of Magic and Arithmancy lessons, but they were really just a back burner class to keep him busy. He was confined to Grimmauld Place until further notice, and it might have been making him a bit crazy. 

He spent a lot of time reading or shooting the shit with Draco. Harry really enjoyed the prickly bastard. They bantered, argued, talked about their childhoods, and things they would do if they weren’t in the middle of a war. When Harry told Draco about the cupboard in intricate detail, Draco lamented his former beliefs that Muggles were nasty. Comments like that, though said on Harry’s behalf always earned Draco a stern look from Harry. Though Draco was going on a year of being out of Pureblood society and rewiring his views on blood status, he sometimes made the odd comment that Harry was quick to correct.

“Honestly, Muggles really ought to have their children taken, the horror of how they are raised. It makes me sick,” Draco scoffed.

“I understand you, at least I think I do, but you can’t say that stuff around other people. I know you don’t really think that way--not any more at least--but other people might get confused. I know you, so I know what you mean, but you can’t ever say stuff like that to the Order, they will think you’re being a dick,” Harry laughed, because he did know Draco was just trying in his terrible way, to cheer Harry up.

Draco smirked and shook his head. “Obviously not all Muggles, but you wouldn’t see a Pureblood–”

Harry covered Draco’s mouth before he could finish that mildly offensive sentence. Their faces were suddenly very close, and Harry felt Draco’s warm lips against his palm and shivered. Draco’s eyes searched Harry’s face, drifting from Harry’s lips to his eyes and back again.

“Erm... You can’t say that stuff, Draco.”

Harry realized his hand was still covering Draco’s mouth and clearing his suddenly dry throat Harry let his hand fall to his side and busied himself with the textbook in his lap. He didn’t look up when Draco coughed awkwardly and left their bedroom, mumbling about having a shower. And well, fuck Harry’s sixteen-year-old hormones because here he was with a slowly growing hard-on imagining Draco slipping his naked–

“Harry! So glad I found you!” Hermione appeared in the doorway sounding out of breath interrupting his thoughts. “You need to come downstairs right now, I found something.”

He nodded and she disappeared. Forcing himself to calm down, he pulled on a jumper and made his way to the kitchen. It wasn’t long before Harry was sat at the table pushing food around his plate waiting for the big news. Remus and Sirius were both picking food off each others plates while arguing with Fred about some magical creation he was working on, Ron was playing with a lock of Hermione’s bushy hair and George and Luna were giggling to each other. Harry cleared his throat and Hermione blinked before she flipped open the book in front of her.

“Harry, you essentially killed You-Know-Who when you were just a baby. Dumbledore defeated him 6 years ago, and he’s still here. I wasn’t able to figure out how that could be. HOW could someone still be alive after being killed. Looking at all the facts, the murdered people, the mark in the sky, the apparent immortality. I started to think it was some really dark old magic.” She pushed the book towards Remus. “Have you ever heard of this curse, Professor Lupin?”

Remus slid his glasses up his nose, and Harry watched as an array of emotions washed over Remus’ face as he read the page in front of him. Hand shaking he pushed the book away and looked at Sirius stunned.

“We need to contact Albus immediately,” he whispered in a hoarse voice.

Harry had never seen Remus look so nervous, scared and defeated. He pulled the book closer to himself and began reading aloud.

“The Horcrux Curse. This piece of dark magic gives the caster another chance at life, but at a great cost. The caster need only have the following ingredients, the charm below and an item of their choosing. The caster must sac–” Harry stumbled, breathing hard. “Sacrifice the life of a human being, and with this blood magic they would split their soul into fragmented pieces and store them in the item(s) of their choosing. The dangers of splitting one's soul multiple times is loss of sanity, possible physical deformities, accidental magic incidents and more. The effects are unknown and will likely get worse the more splits that occur.” Harry gulped and looked around. “Well... At least we know why he looks all messed up?”

Harry gave a lopsided smile, but the surrounding people didn’t seem amused. Hermione looked at him in confusion as Remus stood abruptly and made a Floo call to Dumbledore. He supposed it wouldn’t be long before the entire Order showed up for another heated meeting about where to go and what to do from here. Harry shivered, he couldn’t help wondering what it took for someone to want to murder people and shatter their soul in such a way. It made him wonder about the weird dreams he has sometimes, where he could see people he had never known dying, or the ones where it was like he was a snake talking to a hooded figure.

Harry was lost in his thoughts when Dumbledore stepped through the Floo and observed Harry over his spectacles.

“Harry, can I have a moment to speak with you?” He said in a voice that was hardly above a whisper.

Harry nodded and the two excused themselves to the library. As Dumbledore was closing the door, Harry saw Draco wandering down the stairs. His wet hair stuck to his forehead and neck, his long limbs graceful and slender, his arch to his back enticing and the bob of his throat. Harry couldn’t help the feeling that if not Voldemort, then it would be Draco Black who would be the death of him.

~*~  
“Harry, how do you know what Voldemort looks like, exactly?”

“Erm,” Harry hesitated. “I may have seen him in dreams. I mean, at first I didn’t know who it was, but now I'm pretty certain that it’s him. He doesn’t look entirely human, though, Sir. His skin is very waxy and his eyes are that of a snake. He appears to be almost reptilian.”

Dumbledore fell silent and stared into the fire. He nodded slowly causing a distinct jingle from one of the many trinkets on his person and gave Harry a sad smile.

“Harry, I need your help,” Dumbledore spoke softly. “I’m going to need to ask for things that are not entirely fair of me to ask.”

“I’ll do it, I mean I can’t see my parents, the people I care about, my new friends, the entire muggle world as we know it, are all at risk because of You-Know-Who. I – Professor Dumbledore I know about the prophecy,” Harry spoke frankly.

“Very well, come with me.”

“Is there time to say goodbye?”

“No, I’m afraid not,” He said carefully. “Harry, I’m going to need you to take my arm, we will apparate somewhere you can not tell anyone about, and you may have to do things that you don’t want to do, but you must do them.”

“Professor?”

“Take my arm, Harry.”

Harry gripped a dry, black tinted hand that looked nothing like Dumbledore’s other hand. Again the world spun and tugged at his center, and they landed with a thud on what could only be described as a giant rock in the middle of the ocean. Harry watched in shock at Dumbledore cut his hand and wiped the blood over the massive rock wall in front of them before they stepped through the archway that appeared.

~*~

Harry took deep horrified breaths. He had never seen such creatures, and he had nearly died trying to get away from them. Dumbledore didn’t look well either and soon they were back at Grimmauld Place. While going through the horrible cave Dumbledore had admitted to suspecting Horcruxes for sometimes. He had been looking for some and knew one to be hidden there, in the form of a necklace. Unfortunately, the locket was a fake. Dumbledore was not sure how many Horcruxes there were, just that he had already destroyed one and said a man named Horace Slughorn might know more about the others than he’d admitted to Dumbledore years prior.

Severus, a Spy for the Order and supposed undercover follower of Voldemort’s, went outside with Dumbledore. They spoke for not but a minute before through the window Harry watched in horror as Severus aimed his wand and killed Dumbledore in a flash of green. He looked at Harry, locking eyes for just a moment then disappeared with a crack.

~*~

There were tears, lots of tears. Everyone was miserable and heartbroken over Dumbldore’s death. Remus threw a vase across the room muttering about trusting the wrong people and Sirius’ accidental magic broke a window.

“Harry, I know you weren’t prepared for any of this, you’re hardly ready to face evil like Tom Riddle, but you must fight, and you have to win.”

It was the last thing Dumbledore had said to him. In the few months he had known the man, he had been kinder than any of the Dursley’s, he showed strength instead of fear when it came to Voldemort proven by his refusal to call the man by the name of a monster. ‘He was simply a mad man, nothing more nothing less, Harry’. Harry didn’t know how to feel but it was obvious to many that his life was an immense loss.

He lay awake in his bed listening to Draco’s breathing, short and ragged.

“Are you alright,” Harry spoke into the silence.

“I knew,” Draco croaked out. “I knew there would be someone else, someone who would be given the task, made to kill him. I just didn’t think.” Draco sobbed.

“The task... Draco what do you mean?”

He shot up in his bed and glared at Harry. He hugged his arms around his body. Draco sobbed and tears fell down his face. “My father worked for Him, Harry. He failed You-Know-Who, and I was tasked to kill Dumbledore. I refused. I was gay, I wouldn’t take the mark or the task; I had failed my father in so many ways. That’s why I was disowned, why they tried to kill me. Because, I wouldn’t kill an innocent man. A man who had until 4 years ago dedicated his life to educating and protecting witches and wizards, and formed a secret army to fight Him and his cronies.”

Harry slipped out of his bed and into Draco’s. He tentatively put an arm around Draco and squeezed gently. Draco awkwardly settled back against him, trying to catch his breath and slow his tears. Soon his breathing slowed and Harry realized that Draco was asleep. He pushed a lock of Draco's blonde hair off his forehead and watched him sleep with a feeling of fondness washing over him. Harry quickly dropped his hand, feeling his cheeks flush. He had to get a hold on himself.


	3. Perception

_ Harry was in a large sitting room. There were green carpets, antique furnishings and high ceilings. But he wasn’t Harry. He didn’t know who he was exactly, but he wasn’t himself, kneeling on the floor in front of a cloaked figure with long sharp nails on his pale skinned hand. _

_ “The boy lives, master. He was protected by Dumbledore all these years,” Harry-not-Harry said in a shaky voice. _

_ “We will go after him, and kill anyone in the way,” said the cloaked person. A velvety hissing sound filled the silence and a large snake slithered up the body of the cloaked figure. _

_ “Yes, Nagini, it’s time,” the voice came again. _

_ And then there was a flash of green and pain. _

Harry awoke with a start, his body was covered in sweat, and he had a dull ache in his head. He was shaking all over and Draco was hovering over him, a concerned look on his pale features. 

He smoothed Harry’s hair back, and Harry felt his heart return to normal, his ragged breath calmed, his hands no longer shook. Draco’s touch pulled him out of whatever state of distress he was in and calmed him almost immediately. Harry gently pulled away and smiled awkwardly.

“Thanks.”

“What was it this time?”

“Not the Dursley’s. I can’t be sure, but I think it was – Riddle,” he paused and staring at his hands he admitted, “I’ve had them before, it’s been a few months but I had them all through last year. They used to be so much worse. I saw Dumbledore before I even met him. I saw Ron's father get attacked.”

“You need to tell the Order.”

“I can’t, they’ll think I’m crazy. Or worse.” Harry muttered.

“No, they won’t. You might have seer abilities, or some strange connection with Him.”

Draco pulled Harry up and dragged him out the door.

“Come on, we are Floo-ing Granger, right now!”

Hours later Hermione and Ron sat with Draco and Harry with mugs of steaming hot tea in their hands. It was their fourth. Every time they brought up telling the Order or even just Sirius and Remus about his dreams it boiled down to one thing: Harry wouldn’t allow it. He was too scared to lose the people he now had. He hadn’t had  _ people  _ before. Not people who cared. Not people who said they loved him. Not decent people who actually made him feel like he had some worth.

“Dumbledore trusted me with what he knew of the Horcrux. He trusted me not to tell, and I’ve already told you lot,” Harry realized what he had to do. “I have to find it. I have to find it and destroy it. And I have to do it alone.”

“You’re daft if you think you’re going alone, mate,” Ron chuckled.

“Weasley’s got a point. You can’t do it alone,” Draco said in a slow drawl. “That’s why we’re going with you.”

  
  


~*~

Harry and Draco decided to leave at night. 

They knew they had all of 5 minutes after breaching the wards before one of his new guardians would be down the stairs and trying to stop them. Harry hated the idea of leaving Sirius and Remus, they had barely had time to even be a family. His parents had intended for him to be with them and not his aunt and uncle who had mistreated him for years. Sirius still didn’t know most of what Harry had gone through, Remus knew more because he was level-headed enough to confide in. He wouldn’t be at risk of getting thrown in Azkaban rushing off to give the Dursley’s a piece of his mind.

He liked that about Sirius, all his hot headedness and emotional outbursts. Some days he felt he could really relate to those kinds of feelings. It also made Harry so happy to know someone actually cared that much about him, but also incredulous about it too. He hadn’t been cared about like that before. Ever. And here he was, walking away from it all.

The war had taken a turn for the worse as the end of summer had neared. Death eaters had raided the abandoned Hogwarts in Scotland and were preparing it for reopening. They wanted to make an exclusive educational establishment for Pureblood Wix whose families believed in blood purity. Muggles and muggle born families all over the country were being slaughtered like cattle. The ministry was infiltrated months ago, and they were bringing in even half bloods; snapping their wands and imprisoning them in Azkaban.

Harry let Draco shrink what little of their items they chose to bring and stuff it in his robes pocket. They ran out the door and Draco took Harry’s hand. A shock went through his body at Draco's touch, one he relished in, as he braced himself for the nauseating tug of apparition.

Ron And Hermione were waiting for them outside the house. Harry looked back at the house sadly just as Sirius burst out the door. They disappeared with a crack, words of goodbye in the back of Harry’s throat. He couldn’t lose the little family he now had, before they even had a chance to be a family.

They appeared in a regular suburb just outside London, Hermione tucked her wand away and marched towards a house. Harry, Draco and Ron chased after her fast pace and all muttered under their breath about slowing down, and ridiculous woman.

“So, Horace Slughorn was Potions Master at Hogwarts during You-Know-Who’s student days, and he was in the professor’s elite club for best students.”

“Best at being a bloody psycho.” Ron muttered.

“Call him whatever you like, he was intelligent and had top marks at one of the best wizarding schools in the world.” Hermione stopped in front of an old cottage and turned to continue. “We would be stupid to underestimate that.”

“I agree with Granger,” Draco said quietly. 

Ron glared at Draco and turned to Harry. “Okay, Saviour boy, if anyone has a chance to get any information out of this guy it’s you.”

“Please don’t call me that.” Harry hissed and rolled his eyes at Ron who grinned back.

Harry sucked in a deep breath, knocked loudly on the old wooden door and waited.

~*~

  
  


Harry sat in an old armchair with rips at the seams. The room was older in style; the walls looked as if covered in wooden boards, the only light in the room cast by a roaring fire and a few candles placed around different spots of the room. It was almost creepy aside from the rosy cheeked plump old man in front of him with a big grin plastered across his wrinkled face.

“Harry, my boy! I knew your mother, and your father, rest their souls.” Horace Slughorn prattled on. “Lily was a wonderful girl, so smart, and kind. Not a person out there like your mother. No. She was brilliant. Truly a magnificent beauty as well, my boy. You have her eyes, did you know that?”

“I’ve heard.”

“So tell me, what did I do to earn this visit from you? You must know you are quite the celebrity, and having gone missing for years. Well to be frank, I figured you were dead.”

“I actually had a few questions. Dumbledore told me you knew something, that you can help us do what needs to be done about our Riddle problem.”

Horace flinched and stood quickly.

“I’m sorry, I have no idea what you are insinuating.”

“Well, see Sir, I think you do. I think you know exactly what I am talking about, and I need you to tell me. For my mother. She would want you to tell me. So I can stop all of this from continuing, stop other children from becoming orphans.”

Horace glared down at Harry and walked over to his bookcase. He pulled out a picture of about 8 different students waving and smiling.

“This was your mother,” He offered the photo to Harry he took it gladly to look at the girl his mother was at his age. Blazing red hair and bright green eyes. “She was so kind. It was terrible when I heard of her passing.”

“She would want to help. If she was here, if she knew what you knew, she’d give it to me.”

Horace looked torn, he fiddled with his robes and looked sadly into the fire.

“Just take this, and please understand,” Horace held his wand to his head, pulled a milky white thread that sparkled out and into a vial. “You don’t ever really know what a person is like. Not truly. You think you understand a person, but you never really know what’s happening in their head.”

Harry nodded and left with the vial clutched tight in his hand. 

They sat on a grassy hill after they had watched the memory, all very quiet, unsure what to do from there.

“How are we supposed to even know where to find them?” Draco asked, breaking the silence. “We know about the necklace, we know that it had to be Sirius’ brother who hid the necklace. But where?”

“The only person who was close to Regulus those days was Kreacher.” Harry said suddenly. “Sirius said his parents were already dead. Kreature was loyal to the master of the house, and that would have been Regulus.”

“Okay, so maybe the crazy old elf can help us find one, but there are six others,” Ron grumbled.

“We search, and we don’t stop searching.” Hermione said resolutely. “It’s the only plan we have.”

Harry stood quickly and pulled Draco away from the group. Holding his hand they walked towards a small pond. Other than Harry’s dreams, seeing murders and hearing small bits of plans, Draco was the only one of them who was ever close to Riddle. He squeezed Draco’s hand in his own and decided he had to believe that whatever was going on between them, that Draco trusted him as much as Harry had begun to trust Draco.

“Who are Riddle’s closest confidants?” Harry asked Draco, still staring out over the water. He turned and looked into Draco’s worried eyes. “You are the one person who has been closest to him. I know you don’t want them to think badly of you, that Ron and you have a difficult past, but this could help us stop him.”

Draco worried his bottom lip, searching Harry’s face. What he was looking for, Harry wasn’t sure, but he must have found something.

“My father was given something from ‘The Dark Lord’ when I was a child. He kept it close, protected it above all things. Said it was his most important ‘gift’. A book, more of a journal really, black leather and old looking. I don’t know if he still has it. My aunt Bellatrix was, probably still is, his right hand. She and the man are particularly friendly. It’s rather disturbing if you ask me.”

“I’m betting she has one, tucked away somewhere for safe-keeping. Where did your father hide the journal?”

“It was in his vault for a long time, but he took it out when I was starting my second year at Hogwarts and I never saw it again after that.”

“This is going to be really dangerous, you know that right?”

“Scared, Potter?” 

“You wish,” Harry chuckled, grinned and squeezed Draco’s hand. They stared out over the water for a while longer. Harry enjoyed the feel of Draco’s fingers wrapped around his, taking in the scenery and thinking about the times when Horcruxes and evil maniacs weren’t the topic of his every conversation.

  
  


~*~

The weeks passed quickly. Summer came and went, and too soon it was late November. The four of them never stayed anywhere long, avoiding being seen and trying not to be caught by snatchers – the help hired by the Ministry to catch in renegade Muggle-Borns and Blood Traitors. Harry was worried that it was merely a matter of time until one or all of them were captured and arrested. As far as the wizarding world was concerned, he was still missing. The Chosen One unable to fulfill the prophecy that the world depended on.

Ron and Hermione fought a lot more often than usual. Ron wanted nothing more than to go back to Grimmauld Place and get Sirius and Remus’ help. Harry hated it when they fought, he’d shuffle closer to Draco by the fire, pressing their legs tight together. 

Draco had become even more special to Harry. They would talk through the nights, or days depending on their rotation of keeping watch over the tent that Ron had brought. Draco would bicker, and argue with Harry, but they always laughed through it. They both had sarcastic, dry humour and it helped get them through moments of strain, or days of hunger.

Draco and Hermione kept up Harry’s defensive magic lessons, as well as basic charms and spells. Harry thought he was advancing well, though Draco still muttered with annoyance over Harry’s slow progression. That evening they were working on the levitation charm,  _ Leviosa. _

“Honestly, Potter,” Draco complained. “You should know this by now! You are completely useless, why the fates chose you as the Saviour is beyond me. You can hardly float a feather. Utterly barmy is what it is.”

“You’ll pay for that, Black!” Harry laughed and tackled Draco to the ground.

They wrestled, laughing and groaning when knees knocked against knees. Draco shoved at him and Harry flipped them, so he had Draco pinned under him against the frozen ground. He chuckled, but swallowed nervously, their faces were so close, noses almost touching. Breath mingling. Harry felt a flush creeping over his tan skin and Draco was turning an amusing shade of pink when he rolled off of him. They both breathed heavily, relaxed on the ground looking up at the night sky. If Harry’s hand brushed Draco's, well it was just perfect, really.

“Fine then, GO!” 

Harry heard Hermione yelling at Ron, and they both sat up to watch Ron storm out of the tent and sink to the ground by the fire. His face was red with anger, he had his arms crossed, and he was glaring into the flames. Harry glanced knowingly at Draco who nodded in understanding. He slipped back into the tent while Harry sat beside Ron.

“She doesn’t get it! Her family left the country. Mine is out there, fighting a war that we are avoiding.  _ <i>Anything</i>  _ could happen to them, and I can’t do a thing about it. I might not even know. I could go back in six months and find out my entire family is dead.”

“It’s not that she doesn’t get it Ron, we all have people we care about fighting in that war. We all have people we are worried about.”

“What would you know, you don’t even have a real family.”

Harry didn’t respond at first. He didn’t know what exactly to say, he knew rationally that Ron was lashing out, that he was angry and scared just as much as the rest of them. That didn’t stop him from feeling hurt by Ron’s words.

“You’re right,” Harry said sharply. “Go then, no one’s stopping you.”

So Ron left. Hermione cried. Draco didn’t know what to say, Harry figured. Harry didn’t either. He worried that Ron would get hurt or lost, that he would get captured and tortured. He was scared for Ron, but he knew Ron had to make his own decisions. If he wanted to leave, let him leave. Harry was pissed at him, at his inability to see reason. How dare he say such hurtful things to him, likely to Hermione too. He hoped Hermione was okay, he wasn’t the best at the whole comforting thing, but Draco seemed to be a natural at it.

When Harry finally slept, he was sucked into another terrifying dream--or vision--of Riddle.

_ “Bella, my dear, ensure Hogwarts is heavily guarded. We cannot have Harry and his little resistance group infiltrating the school and getting their hands on-- well on some things of mine.” Riddle with his pale, almost translucent skin, and yellow snake like eyes, spoke with a commanding yet soft voice. He gripped Bellatrix LeStrange’s shoulder, rubbing his long nailed fingers over her porcelain skin. _

_ “Yes, master. It will be done!” She crooned.  _

_ Bellatrix bowed low as she slipped from the room. She seemed both in awe and completely terrified of Riddle. Rightly so, Harry thought. If she showed even the slightest bit of disloyalty, he knew Riddle would kill her without a second thought. Or was that Bellatrix’s thoughts? _

_ “Nagini, stay close, we have a trip to make.” Riddle said in a silky smooth tone. _

_ The snake slithered up the body of Riddle, and then they were gone with a crack, reappearing in a clearing, one that looked much like the area Harry and his friends had just left the night before. He walked with his chin high to the fire that was blazing high and bright, He sat beside a ginger boy – beside Ron – and gave him an evil smirk. _

_ “You left your little friends,” he hissed. “That wasn’t very smart now was it?” _

_ “Please,” Ron choked out. _

_ “Tell me what I want to know,” Riddle snapped pulling out his wand and putting it to Ron’s throat. Harry realized there were about a dozen snatchers all around him. “Do they know where they are?” _

_ “I’m not telling you anything!” Ron said his voice shaking. “I’ll die first!” _

_ “So be it. Avada Kadavra!” _

_ Green flashed over Harry’s vision, and he heard a blood-curdling scream.  _

It was his own.

  
  



	4. Determination

“Harry!” Draco was yelling.

“Harry, wake up!” Hermione was sobbing.

Harry was panting, his body twitching, and he was crying. He couldn’t believe it, he couldn’t trust that this was actually happening. That Ron was dead, that Riddle knew where they were. It was late afternoon, and the freezing air was brilliant on Harry’s damp skin.

“We have to leave,” Harry choked out, pulling on his shirt and his shoes. “We have to leave, _ <i>now</i>.” _

“What happened, Harry. What did you see?” Hermione asked, her voice laced with panic.

Harry looked at Draco, panicked and afraid to say what he saw. He didn’t know if it was real, didn’t know if it had really happened. Her heart would break, and she’d be sick with worry if he said anything. Though, she’d likely never forgive him if he didn’t.

“I saw– Hermione, I saw Him kill Ron.”

Hermione dropped the cup of water in her hands, tears filled her eyes, and she nodded robotically. Clutching her stomach she ran from the tent and puked in a bush. Draco began gathering their things in Hermione’s bottomless bag and doused the lanterns. With a flick of his wand the Fire outside was extinguished, all the while Harry told them what he saw.

“I’ll bet it’s Horcruxes that he’s hiding in that school. A Muggle born girl was killed when he was in school, they found her body in a bathroom and ever since that bathroom has been closed to all students. I’ll bet one is in there, or that at the very least she might know something about it.” Draco said.

They tore down the tent and stored it into the bag. Harry felt a throb in his scar right through to the back of his head, it was dull but noticeable. He was worried, and he felt nauseous over watching Riddle kill Ron.

“Are you alright, Hermione?”

“No,” She whispered. “And I don’t reckon I will be until I know for sure what happened to him.”

Harry nodded and wrapped his arms around her, letting her sob against his chest. 

“Where do we go from here?” Harry asked quietly.

“We find a new location to discuss our next move,” Draco answered. “We can’t run into the castle without a plan.”

“What kind of plan do you think we can even make, right now? We need the necklace from Grimmauld Place, we need a way to destroy it, because I’ll bet we can’t destroy it with just any old spells. We need to figure out where five bloody Horcrux are, Draco! How can we bloody plan for that?”

“Harry, you need to calm down.” Hermione whispered.

“How am I supposed to calm down, I never asked for any of this Hermione. Until now, I was living a shit life in a shit house, but at least I wasn't running for my life, watching people die around me, for me, because of me.”

“Don’t be so stupid, they aren’t dying because of or for you,” Draco scoffed. “Conceited much? This is war, Harry. People DIE, it’s just what happens.”

Harry felt a throbbing in his head, and an anger inside that he couldn’t control.

“It shouldn’t happen! Because of your kind,” Harry roared. “Stupid Pureblood’s and your stupid views--”

Draco stepped back like he had been slapped and stormed away into the forest.

“Fuck.” Harry groaned and threw his own bag onto the ground in frustration. “I really buggered that one, didn’t I?”

“I think you really did,” Hermione said softly, shuffling closer to him and resting a hand on his arm. “Let’s go after him.”

~*~

It was dusk when they finally found him, deep in the forest sitting by a lake. Harry felt terrible, like a right git, as he should. He knew Draco didn’t share those beliefs, not any more, and yet he had thrown it in his face. Hurt him the only way Harry knew how. He was raised treated that way, and he had always promised himself to do better, <i>be</i> better. Harry sank onto the ground beside Draco and stared out over the frozen water. How could he even attempt to make this right? 

“I’m sorry.”

“Prick.”

“I know.”

“You know I don’t–”

“I know,” Harry interrupted.

Draco huffed and looked away. Harry bit his lip and cursed himself for his cruel attack against Draco. If it would make Draco feel better, Harry would hex himself.

“You know, you’re going to owe me,” Draco said petulantly. “My slave for the next millennia.”

“Done,” Harry chuckled. “Feet rubs?”

“The works, Potter. <i>My slave</i> remember. I could ask you to do anything. Massage my entire body for the next year. If I wanted.”

“I’d do it,” Harry said open and honest. “I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean it.”

“Yes, yes, Potter we all know you're a sorry excuse for a human being who was never taught basic communication or proper treatment to others,” Draco smirked. “Tragic really.”

Harry was about to snark back but a curious flash of silver caught his eye. It was coming from inside the lake. Something inside was glowing and bright.

“What's that?”

“It’s called a burn, Potter, I didn’t think I’d have to spell it out for you.”

“No, no you prat, look!” Harry pointed at the lake. The light was getting brighter and Harry moved closer.

“Sure just get closer to the unknown bright light in a frozen lake, that's smart. No really, Potter, I bet you’d jump off a cliff if you were <i>just curious</i>.”

Harry glared at Draco teasingly but moved closer to the light. It was a sword, a great bloody big one at that. That’s not odd at all. A sword. In a lake. Glowing.

Harry pulled the sword from the icy water, with Draco’s help. They brought it back to Hermione who gasped.

“The Sword of Gryffindor!”

“Merlin, haven’t I always said you’re made for Gryffindor?” Draco rolled his eyes.

Harry held the sword up feeling the power and weight of it in his hands. He grinned.

“We can do this,” Harry smiled at his friends. “Let’s get to–”

He was interrupted by twigs snapping. Harry saw movement, and they all ran after slipping the sword into Hermione's bag. Through leaves, over rocks, under brushes. A group of people chasing them through the forest. Harry saw Hermione trip and sent a Jelly Legs Jinx at the man just behind her. He pulled her up, and they raced off in the direction Draco went. Suddenly Draco froze, they were surrounded. Harry felt his heart beating almost out of his chest. They couldn’t be caught now. Not when they finally felt like they might have a damn chance. Hermione raised her wand and hit Harry with a spell that sent Harry flying to the ground.

When Harry came to he was on a wooden floor, his glasses were missing. He looked around and saw the fuzzy shape of Draco being held at wand point by a long blonde haired man.

“Get away from him!” Harry growled stepping forward, his wand held towards them.

“Now, now,” a disturbingly familiar voice admonished. “There will be no fighting here.”

He felt a hand grip his upper arm and fingers shoved glasses into his hand. When he pushed them onto his nose, he saw a hideous waxy snake like man in a long dark robe. He shivered and felt his head throb with pain. He knew exactly who this monster – no he was just a man – was.

“Lucius, welcome your son home, he brought us presents.”

“Crucio,” Lucius sneered and Draco fell to the ground screaming.

“YOU!” A woman with wild curly hair screeched. “Where did you get this?”

Harry saw she had the Sword in her hands, and she was pointing it at Hermione. She looked angry, dangerous and maybe scared. Where they had got the sword, seemed to matter to her a great deal.

“It–it just appeared,” Hermione stammered.

“Bella, what is the problem?” Riddle drawled.

“This was in MY personal vaults, and you’re telling ME that this sword just came to you? No, no you broke into my vaults!” The woman screamed. “HOW? How did you get in there? What else did you take? Get them to cellar, I want a little alone time with the girl.”

Harry shouted in protest, but was dragged away with Draco. They were both thrown into what really could only be a pit, a hole dug out of rock. From the screaming Harry could hear he could only pray Hermione would survive whatever they were doing to her.

“Harry?” 

“Ron?!” Harry ran towards the figure slumped in the corner. “How did you get here?”

“I was picked up just before you, I reckon. I got it, Harry. They don’t know I have it, but,” Harry watched as Ron pulled out a necklace from his pocket. “I had it transfigured into a stick of gum.”

“Brilliant,” Harry exclaimed. “But they have Hermione upstairs. We have to get out of here.”

Harry glanced at Draco, who was propped against a pillar, he looked rough, sweaty, dishevelled and broken. Harry sat next to him and didn’t even hesitate to pull Draco in his arms. He held him close while Draco silently cried from both physical and emotional pain. His father had done something so cruel to him, again. Harry kissed the top of Draco’s head and ran his hand through his hair.

“How do you feel?”

“Like a bag of Hippogriff shite,” Draco said quietly. “Thank you.”

“Don’t, I care about you, you don’t need to thank me.”

“It’s gone quiet up there, do you think my aunt-?”

“Don’t finish that,” Ron snapped dropping beside them. “She’s alive. She has to be.”

“That woman was–”

“Bellatrix LeStrange, my aunt.” Draco mumbled into Harry’s chest, finishing his thought.

Harry tightened his grip around Draco’s shoulders and stared at the barred door.

“Is there a way out of here, Draco?” he asked quietly.

“Of course not.” A voice from behind them snapped shrilly. Harry could just make out a short, ugly, long nosed, big eared man.

“You’re a goblin!” Ron exclaimed. “You work at Gringotts Bank, don’t you?”

“Very perceptive.” The creature glared at Ron. “Griphook.” He held out a long nailed hand.

Harry was interested then, and he peered at the small creature curiously. He might be of some help. The door creaked open, a small little elf looking creature with big floppy ears peeked into the room and waved towards them.

“Dobby!” Draco whispered and sat up quickly. The elf beckoned them forward again. “I freed you, why are you here?”

The elf hopped into the room, grabbing Draco’s hand.

“Mister Draco was in need of some assistance, Dobby has to help Mister Draco with whatever Mister Draco needs!” He pulled on Draco some more. “Come, come, we don’t have long Mister Draco and Mister Draco’s friends.”

The group followed the elf up to the wide room, Riddle and the others were talking in hushed tones just outside the room. Harry ran to the group surrounding Hermione on the floor. She didn’t look good to Harry, but she was alive. They all joined hands and the elf snapped its fingers. They disapparated with a loud crack.

~*~

With Dobby’s help they got to Gringotts and somehow Griphook convinced the manager of the bank to allow them passage into Harry Potter’s Vault. From there he took them into the lowest part of the Bank and into Bellatrix LeStrange’s vault guarded by a giant dragon and disappeared. Harry could hear the Horcrux speaking, it was again a whispered hiss. It was unnerving, he knew exactly where and what it was in a room filled with artefacts. He picked up the Cup but realized Griphook had reappeared with Aurors, apparently having gone back on his word.

“Bloody Goblins,” Ron muttered. “How the bloody hell are we supposed to get out of here?”

“We can’t disapparate from here?” Harry asked.

“If you want to end up locked in a vault down here for the next 10 or so years,” Draco sneered.

Harry rolled his eyes but saw a curious look on Ron’s face as he held Hermione upright. 

“We could fly, my brother Charlie said riding a Dragon is easy, so long as you don’t pull out any of their scales.”

“You have got to be kidding me, that’s barbaric, it’s unseemly!” Draco sighed. 

“It’s wicked!” Harry laughed.

~*~

Harry sat at the head of the Dragon, and Draco sat behind him pressed against his back. Hermione and Ron were behind them. A glance back saw Hermione resting her back against Ron as he smoothed her bushy hair and pressed chaste kisses to her temple. He appeared to be whispering in her ear but Harry was distracted by Draco’s arms suddenly tightening around his middle.

Harry glanced up briefly at him, his angular face trained ahead, his jaw flexing. Draco’s chin then rested against Harry’s face as Harry turned back to staring ahead of them. He took deep breaths. So much had happened. They had run from Grimmauld Place, lived on the run for months, found two Horcruxes and were currently riding a Dragon out of Diagon Alley towards the Scottish Highlands. 

He almost lost the few friends he had, friends that were true and good. Friends who had risked their lives for him. For some crazy mission of Harry’s, a prophecy that meant Harry had to save the bloody world. He could have lost Draco. He raised his hand and pressed it against Draco’s and squeezed. Draco had come to mean so much to him. The first Wizard he had ever met, the first person who knew about the Dursleys, the first person he–

The dragon landed on a grassy hill with a thump. Harry slid off the creature’s rough scales and thick muscular body, landing unsteadily on his feet. Draco slid off next and Harry caught him as he stumbled. Harry looked at Draco and pulled him in. He pressed their lips together awkwardly, his dry and chapped lips meeting smooth plump ones. 

Draco didn’t move at first, shocked by Harry’s forwardness probably, but then his long slender fingers slipped into Harry’s thick black hair. He angled his head and parted his lips, deepening the kiss. 

“That's disgusting.”

“Ronald!” Hermione scolded.

“What? It's not a two blokes thing, it's a Malfoy and Harry thing.”

Harry grinned against Draco’s mouth and chuckling he pulled away. He gripped onto Draco’s hand tightly. He watched the dragon fly away, looked over the Scottish highlands and saw a majestic castle – on fire.

“Are we too late?”

“No, Harry!” Draco smiled reassuringly. “The Wizarding world, they’re fighting back. About time too, can’t expect us to do everything.”

Harry rolled his eyes and said, “Then we have time to get in there and find what we are looking for.”

Suddenly the world went black and Harry saw a vision of Riddle torturing one of his own men. He was screaming and terrified and Harry understood every word. One Horcrux was destroyed years ago, Harry had or knew of the others and Nagini was the final one that Voldemort had been keeping secret this whole time.

~*~

Running through the halls of the castle, trying to find hidden items within was harder than it seemed. Hogwarts was bigger than Harry could have ever imagined. Gripping the sword in one hand and his wand in the other he darted through hallways and down corridors. 

“Harry,” Draco stopped beside him, huffing deep breaths. “I found something, come on!”

Harry ran with Draco who dragged him through the castle and into a bathroom. It looked dirty and forgotten, broken toilets and flooded floors. There was a girl floating above them with dark hair and glasses.

“Get out! This is _ my _ bathroom, and I won’t have anyone dying in here!”

“That’s Myrtle, she’s the girl–”

“Who was killed by the beast that Riddle summoned?”

Draco nodded, and he picked up a book off the floor. It was wet and dirty but otherwise perfectly preserved. Harry felt the prickle of power, and heard the whispers.

Ron and Hermione waited outside. They had been pacing around looking for Harry and Draco. Harry could almost laugh at the situation, running through the halls of a school he was meant to attend as a child but ended up at during a war instead.

Suddenly a door appeared in the wall, materializing as if out of nowhere. Harry didn’t know why, but something called to him inside. The room was filled with thousands of items, jewelry, books, vases and more. It was the telltale sound of the whispered hissing that drew Harry to the next Horcrux. It looked like a tiara, and so he took it in hand. 

When he turned it was to find two young death eaters with their wands aimed right at his throat. Was he going to die? Was this the end when they had finally found what they needed to find? One shouted a spell and suddenly the room was on fire. 

“Throw the Horcruxes into the fire!” Hermione screamed.

“All of them? Are you sure that will destroy them?” Harry yelled back as they ran through the mountains of things, chased by a huge ball of fire in the shape of a bird.

“It’s our last chance!” She screamed back and ripped the necklace off her neck throwing it into the flames. It exploded and shadows of snakes fizzled out into the air.

One by one they each threw one of the Horcruxes into the fire. Escaping within an inch of their lives, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Draco tumbled from the room which disappeared with a crunch behind them.

“Now, Nagini and Riddle himself,” Harry said wiping sweat and dirt from his face and fixing the glasses on his face. “Hopefully that’s it!”

“Where are they Harry, do you know?” Ron asked.

Harry closed his eyes and tried to tap into Riddle’s mind. He saw a large shed, Severus Snape and Nagini down by the edge of a body of water. They ran towards what Hermione called the Black Lake, hoping to get there in time.

~*~

Severus was dead, and with his final breath had given Harry memories to watch in a pensieve. He found one in a large office, filled with books and trinkets. On the desk was a black and broken looking ring with a large stone in the middle. He gripped the stone in his hand and slipped it into his pocket. It felt warm and comforting. He poured the memory into the bowl and slipped his head inside.

Harry was a bit in shock. He stumbled on his feet and sunk to the ground by stairs leading to a room filled with injured and dead witches and wizards.

“Harry!” A voice boomed. When Harry looked up he saw a bloody and dirty Sirius running towards him with Remus and a pink haired girl in tow.

He wanted to cry, he wanted to tell them everything and ask them to help him find another way. Though he knew there wasn’t another way. A piece of Riddle was inside him, a piece that if not destroyed would mean they’d win.

Harry started to explain, to apologize for running, but arms came around him in a crushing embrace and Harry once again felt the need to sob. He felt so much love from these people. He felt so lucky that he got to spend the last year with them. To finally have a family, friends, find love.

Draco.

He had to find them. He had to say goodbye.

“Harry there’s something you should–” Remus began but Harry interrupted him.

“I–I have to go, there’s something I have to do. I’m sorry.” Harry pulled away and walked about ten feet before turning back. “You’ll be okay, and if my parents are alive, tell them I was brave.”

And then he ran.

~*~

“Giant freaking spiders!” Ron was screeching.

“Ron!” Hermione said exasperated. “That's hardly the worst thing right now.”

“Hermione some of those spiders were bigger than the knight bus!”

“Control your weasel, Granger,” Draco rolled his eyes, leaning against the wall of a corridor. 

He perked up as Harry neared, extending an arm out and pulling Harry into a tight embrace. Harry buried his face into Draco's chest and breathed in his scent. This was the last time he’d hug Draco. He pulled away and gave his three friends a sheepish but sad smile.

“It’s true,” Hermione's voice broke.

“You knew?”

“I suspected. I hoped I was wrong.”

“What's going on?” Draco asked.

Harry smiled, his eyes filled a bit but he bit back the tears. He hugged Draco again, pressed a chaste kiss to his lips and whispered “I love you” in his ear. He broke away and ran from the castle as fast as his legs would carry him. He had to make it to the clearing where Voldemort and his Death Eaters were before Draco could catch up to him. Hopefully Ron and Hermione would hold him back.

Faced with Death, he wasn’t scared, the stone in his pocket blazed hot and a misty ghost appeared in front of him. It was Severus and Dumbledore. Not exactly who Harry would have wanted to see in his final moments, but it was comforting not to be alone.

When the flash of green filled his eyes, Harry didn’t cease to exist, he didn’t end up in some version of heaven or hell. Instead, he spoke with Dumbledore, or what looked like Dumbledore anyways. Harry was given a choice, and of course, he chose life. He finally had one worth living. He wasn’t about to give that up.

“Is Draco alive?” 

It was the first real words he heard when he came to, laying on the leaves and dirt of the forest clearing. He carefully nodded so that only the woman could see it. Convinced of Harry’s death, Riddle had him carried off towards the castle. 

Harry heard Riddle gloating about his win, how Harry was dead and there was no hope left. He heard voices, shouting, a woman screaming from far away. He heard Draco step forward and tell the creepy man off, and Harry wanted to laugh and hug him. Harry rolled himself out of the arms that carried him and jumped up, unable to find his wand but facing Riddle head on. Harry could see Riddle’s followers backing away from him. He didn’t blame them, really. They had just seen him murdered with the killing curse, yet still standing.

“Harry!” Draco ran to him and threw him his wand which had fallen to the ground where the massive giant, who carried him to the castle, had dropped him.

War broke out around them once again, people running from or towards Death Eaters. Harry saw a thick blonde boy chop off the head of Nagini and he knew, they were going to win.

*~*~

It was quiet, the only sound was the cracking and popping of Death Eaters disapparating, escaping before they too could be captured or killed after the defeat of their leader. Harry’s hands were shaking, his entire body ached, but he felt amazing, free, at peace. He knew there had been loss, the hall in the middle of the castle had already been filled with the bodies of the fallen. So though, they had just gone through war, death and pain, Harry felt free.

He was nearly knocked to the ground outside the entrance to the castle by the sheer force of Hermione tackling him. She peppered his face with kisses until he was begging for mercy. Ron clapped him on the shoulder and brought him in for a squeeze as well. Then Harry was faced with Draco, who looked kind of pissed off.

“You are an idiot!” Draco shoved him.

Harry looked at him fondly, grabbing his wrists when Draco tried to push him again.

“Fucking idiot!” Draco croaked. “You almost–”

“I did,” At their shared surprised looks he continued. “Erm, I guess that doesn't make it better, huh.” 

Harry slipped an arm around Draco’s waist, pulled him against his side and kissed his temple. Then he rested his head on Draco’s shoulder.

“Harry,” Sirius interrupted. “Well, I didn’t think we’d see you again.”

Sirius and Remus were standing beside a crumbled wall, Remus fidgeting with his fingers, Sirius poking rocks with the toe of his boots. Harry grinned at them.

“I’m alright, glad you both are too,” Harry tightened his grip on Dracos hip.

There was a scuffle and then a loud rough voice yelled, “Sirius! Where the bloody hell is my–”

The man the voice belonged to came around a tumbled wall and froze. A beautiful red haired woman bumped into him and, when peeking out from behind him, she also froze. They stared at Harry. Harry stared back. 

They were an older version of the couple in the wedding photos. Harry blinked. James Potter looked like an older version of himself. Taller than Harry but with the same black, perpetually messy hair, glasses and tan skin. Lily Potter, like James, was tall and slender, with fiery red hair and bright green eyes. She was crying, one arm clutching her husbands elbow the other covering her mouth, likely holding in loud sobs.

“Salazar, I’m doomed to enduring that ridiculous hair for the rest of our lives, aren't I?” Draco sighed trying to break the silence. Harry chuckled, sliding his hand into Dracos and stepping towards his parents. 

“Hi,” He grinned. “I’m not quite sure, but I think we might be related.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This BEAUTIFUL art was created by the extremely talent and very lovely @Mad1492 on Tumblr/Twitter ❤️


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